Chapter 416: A Gift Delivered

Meanwhile, outside the Nightblades' headquarters in Aleisterre, the royal guard had arrived in force. Soldiers in armor, weapons at the ready, formed a silent, disciplined cordon around the site, waiting for the spatial seal covering the area to dissipate.

Civilians passing nearby quickened their steps. A few curious souls slowed to watch, but once they realized these soldiers were not mere city guards, they wisely hurried away. No one wanted to invite trouble upon themselves.

"One minute until the seal drops. The Nightblades' headquarters will reappear. Once it does, we'll seize control immediately. The vanguard this time consists of two legendary-class operatives. Failure is impossible. Our task is simple: secure the site and contain the fallout. Keep disturbances to a minimum."

The commander's voice carried through the magitech communicators in every soldier's helm. After a final reminder, he began a crisp countdown.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven..."

As the numbers fell, the air itself began to shiver. What had appeared an empty lot now warped and blurred. The outline of something vast began to take shape.

"Four, three, two, one, zero. Target has manifested. Begin operation!"

As the commander barked out an order, the Nightblades' headquarters tore free of its isolated pocket-space and solidified before their eyes, dragged back by massive binding arrays. The soldiers bent their knees, ready to surge forward.

"?!"

As ordered, they shot forth. Their discipline forbade hesitation, yet confusion and shock was apparent in every chest.

𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Before them was no fortress, no semblance of what a headquarters should look like. There was only a bare stone foundation. It was empty. There were no ruined rubble, no shattered walls—merely a vacant platform where a building ought to stand.

"Cease the charge! Spread out and investigate!"

The order came swiftly. The royal guards slowed their pace, fanning across the site, scanning the ground with wary precision.

Five minutes passed in a methodical search. Caution stretched the time; they deployed all manner of detection instruments, probing for traps and testing the earth. But there was nothing. No trace of structures, no sign of life. Not a single body.

"Report," barked the commander.

"The target has vanished entirely, both the building and all personnel within. The two legendary operatives are also unaccounted for. We cannot establish contact, and they've made no attempt to reach us." There was not even proof that Charles Ryder's assassination had been a success.

"Understood. Scan for magical residue—any mana traces or void leakage."

"Negative. The site is far too pristine. There aren't any physical or magical trails left behind. We have no idea what happened here."

The commander's jaw tightened. Something had gone very wrong. He had never considered failure an option—two legends all but guaranteed success.

He had only prepared for variations in the aftermath, and the differing levels of turbulence to suppress.

But what he faced now was nonsense. Both legends gone, the headquarters erased, the target's status unknown—there was no evidence of what had transpired.

"...Fan out and scour the district. Forget permission and the Ryder family's protests. If they resist or hinder our investigation, cut them down. Find Charles Ryder's trail, now."

The order was cold and sharp. The royal guards obeyed and executed it with ruthless efficiency.

The commander exhaled, voice low. "What a troublesome outcome. It's inexplicable. Report everything immediately. Heighten the royals' security by two levels. We need to figure out what's going on."

He transmitted the summary by a covert channel. His message quickly reached the Minister of War, along with a pointed demand to heighten security immediately.

When Gerard, the Minister of War, received the dispatch through his magitech terminal, his face darkened. This had been his first assignment under King Donatien Charlemagne's patronage. With two legends deployed, the assassination attempt should have been flawless. Yet this was the result.

"Damn it... I'll secure what was promised to me."

He pressed his hand hard against his face, forcing himself to maintain his composure. He raised the security around the palace without delay.

"There's no choice left. With the Nightblades and two legends involved, I can't risk the situation growing worse. Only His Majesty's astrologer can divine the truth."

He despised having to admit to failure so quickly, but he needed answers. A prophecy seemed to be the sole expedient path.

Rising, Gerard strode through the halls, passing checkpoints at speed until he stood before Donatien Charlemagne's chamber. There, he relayed every detail without omission.

"...Bring Selene," the king said at last, voice cool, unreadable. "Continue managing the search. Do what you must to locate our two legends."

"Understood!"

Teeth clenched, Gerard bowed, then turned swiftly toward the astrologer's wing.

Yet before he could reach her, fate interceded. Selene herself emerged from a side hall as she walked toward the king's chambers.

"His Majesty has summoned you," Gerard said curtly. Their exchanges were always this way.

"I know. The plan has shifted—I foresaw it." Her tone was calm, detached. "And I will tell His Majesty this: the Ryder family is key. They conceal something vital. That thing must be found."

Gerard paused, unsettled. Her foresight was, as ever, terrifying in its accuracy.

"...Understood. My thanks for the warning."

At the very least, Gerard had obtained the information he wanted. Now he knew how to proceed. Selene's gift was exceptionally useful, though her visions were always somewhat hazy. Perhaps that was the common flaw of all such powers.

The two parted ways there. Gerard hurried to his command post, directing a mission to unearth the secrets hidden by the Ryder family. Selene, meanwhile, made her way to the palace to audience with Donatien Charlemagne.

"Selene, did you not assure me the plan would go without deviation? How did things turn out this way?"

The moment she entered the hall, the king's voice pressed down on her like a weight. She had promised that nothing would go amiss, and yet these unforeseen events had clearly provoked his anger.

"Calm down, Your Majesty. Our plan was to kill Charles Ryder and seize control of the Nightblades, was it not? From the look of things, nothing has yet happened to suggest the plan has failed."

Despite the monarch's fury, Selene remained tranquil, as if she had anticipated the accusation.

"You mean to say..."

Doron Charlemagne frowned. There was a hint of something deeper in her words. Following her reasoning, he realized she was right: nothing yet proved the plan's failure. Did this mean Selene had further designs in motion?

"Eliminating Charles Ryder is only half the task. His family remains a nuisance. Their power ensures they will eventually discover what befell him. Better to deal with them all at once. I have prepared a very special gift for them."

Her lips curved with the faintest smile as she procured an object.

"Your malice toward the Ryder family runs deeper than I thought. First, you asked me to cast them aside. Now, you would see them utterly destroyed. So be it. Since it is in accordance with our design and serves what comes after, I can indulge your little schemes.

"Now—reveal your plan."

Donatien Charlemagne's eyes narrowed. He had not expected such enmity from her toward the Ryders. Yet now he began to understand. Selene must have foreseen all this.

"Very well."

With that brief reply, Selene raised the metallic cylinder in her hand and triggered it. In an instant, a violent surge of void energy erupted forth, its magical resonance tearing through the palace's layered wards against wizardry and spilling into the world at large.

"You—?!"

The king had been wondering what she carried. His aborted question became a cry of alarm.

Under the force of the wave, even his subconscious image of Selene faltered. The familiar aura dissolved, replaced by a jarring sense of wrongness.

"Damn it, it's the Mesmeric Mask!"

Realization struck him at once. This was no Selene. The person who stood before him was an impostor using the curio known as the Mesmeric Mask, an artifact meant to shroud the Ryders' prophetic sight and conceal Charles' death. It had since been repurposed to deceive Donatien himself.

The identity of the figure revealed shook him: that fugitive knight Wang Yu?! Impossible. How could he possess the strength to insert himself into a scheme of this scale?

"So this is Avia's foresight and cunning. Every step unfolded just as she expected. Any deviation from the plan meant that Selene would be called on. A sound choice indeed—but also a flaw to be exploited."

With inward admiration for Avia's strategy, Wang Yu stood revealed before Doron Charlemagne. It was time, as promised, to deliver the royal family a grand gift.

High above, the "Archangel" wreathed in the divine power of the night unfurled its wings. A halo of sanctity blazed to life...